


Pink Band-Aid

by Eyece



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Archivist Sasha James, Body Horror, M/M, Minor Injuries, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26557138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyece/pseuds/Eyece
Summary: Maybe the heat is what brought him in, smelling of wet metal and sounding like the scream of machinery gone to rust. Or perhaps he never existed at all, just another figment of Martin's heat addled brain after reading too many statements.He never understood why Jonathan Sims appeared in his beat-up muscle car outside the institute when he did. Maybe he wasn't meant to understand.All Martin knew was one minute he was hailing a taxi and then the next, he was in a car that was barely legal, shooting down the streets of London.Extinction Jon takes Martin for a joyride.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 105





	Pink Band-Aid

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this instead of doing homework. I'll edit this tomorrow, but now it's time for me to go to bed.

The cold dreariness of London was something Martin had grown quite accustomed to since his move from his hometown. The move itself was quite uneventful and his Mother's move into a home even less so, despite everything. He didn't even know she was leaving until he saw her bags packed and sitting by the front door.

"It's about time I got someone useful to take care of me" She had said just as the taxi pulled up outside of their shared two-bedroom flat. Her cold attitude was so familiar that even when his flat was finally empty of all her things and she was miles away, the frostiness of her personality was quickly replaced with the cold chill of the London air. Sasha and Tim did their best when they heard the news, of course, always insisting that he come out for a round at the local pub on Friday's. Tim's drunken karaoke combined with Sasha's stories provided enough warmth where things would almost seem ok until everything came crashing back down once he returned to an empty flat.

Life did carry on though, and slowly things seemed to get a little better. The seasons dragged on, Winter turned to Spring and the Archives still were a proper mess. The busy work in the stacks of statements plus the constant stress of his fake CV were just enough to keep Martin's mind occupied, but of course, things couldn't always be so easy. Prentiss's arrival made sure of that. Two weeks can do a lot of damage to a person. So can worms funny enough. What didn't do damage though, were the pockmarks. Small little dotted holes that stretched across each of their skin, a physical reminder of the fears, as well as the bond between the Archive crew. Sasha, Head Archivist and fearless leader of the group, brought brightly colored bandaids soon after the attack.  
"Awww for me? You shouldn't have Boss!" Tim chirped as he saw what she had brought. 

"Not just for you silly!" Swatting him lightly in the back of the head "I have a feeling that this isn't going to be our only fight with the unnatural. Prentiss was only the beginning, something is out there, and the answer is somewhere in these statements." 

"There has to be a reason for all this-" she then took on a serious face, "-and I intend to find it."   
Sasha then shook her head. "Until then, I got us completely stocked up," pushing a box of colorful bandaids into each of her assistant's hands she continued "Here take these! It should be enough to get you started." 

It was only three days later when the first box was opened, a colorful orange bandage now covered up a particularly awful stab wound on Tim's left hand. 

Time kept marching on. The moderate temperature of Spring gave way to the blistering heat of Summer. Maybe the heat is what brought him in, smelling of wet metal and sounding like the scream of machinery gone to rust. Or perhaps he never existed at all, just another figment of Martin's heat addled brain after reading too many statements. He never understood why Johnathan Sims appeared in his beat-up muscle car outside the institute when he did. Maybe he wasn't meant to understand. All Martin knew was one minute he was hailing a taxi and then the next, he was in a car that was barely legal, shooting down the streets of London.

"You're not my cab" 

"Hmm" The driver gave a shrug. He was all sharp angles and high cheekbones. Black leather jacket with platform boots, ashy dark skin slowly peeling of chapped lips. His eyes were hidden behind a thick pair of sunglasses, but Martin just Knew that they were as dark as his outfit. If Martin wasn't already head over heels already, he certainly was when the stranger began to speak.

"I hear there's a new Archivist, and you are one of the assistants." 

"Um- huh yes? How did you-?"

"Word travels, and I like to keep an eye on the Changes. That is my business after all." He lets out a dry laugh, and Martin swears he sees smoke come out of his mouth. 

All of his self-preservation instincts flared up. This guy was clearly crazy, and he probably should jump out of the car, or do something to get away from this man, but something stopped him. An itching in the back of his skull, this need to Know to See kept him rooted in place. 

"Who are you?"

"Now isn't that a question" bringing a cigarette to his mouth.

Where did it come from? Letting out a puff of smoke he continued

"I am less of a who and more of a what" 

"So you're like Prentiss then? Some kind of monster?"

"I'd never associate with one of the filth," his voice grinded "though If you want to think of me as a monster you may do as you wish, assistant"

He tilted his head thoughtfully, " I prefer to go by Jon though, or at least I think I did before the little Change"

"Ah well, it's nice to meet you Jon" Martin stuttered out. Best to be polite to the hot monster man lest he decides to kill you. "My name is Martin"

"What uh, what do you want with me? Are you gonna" He makes some vague hand gestures before continuing "you know?"

Jon gives him a long hard look, even with his eyes behind sunglasses he feels being taken apart. 

"I'm not going to kill you if that's what you mean, the Change will do that for you." He looks off to the side before pouting. "Besides I'm not here for that, just some information."

" What's this change you keep talking about? I don't know why you would need me anyway, I mean I'm just an archival assistant."

Jon breaks out into a grin, "How to explain something so big, so beautiful? The End of All Ends, The Great Disappearance, change is inevitable Martin. All of this will end and everything will be reclaimed, humanity will cease and I will finally get my blessed silence." 

He starts scratching his face, skin slowly starts peeling off in chunks, and the silver shine of metal peaks through his flesh.  
  
"Your archivist shall bring this big change if everything continues as it should, the question that I want to know is-" Jon turns to Martin and his sunglasses tilt down revealing the end. "How will she do it?"

Bright amber eyes burning like a dead world, steel beams fill Martin's lungs just as butterflies fill his stomach. Who knew extinction could be so beautiful. 

"Ah but that's not something you can answer quite yet is it? That's alright. You've helped enough for now."

"Um?" Martin was still reeling, trying to catch his breath from, whatever that was. 

More flakes fell from his skin, and sharp jagged scratch marks trailed down Jon's cheek.  
  
Martin has always been a caregiver ever since his mother took ill. He liked helping people, and always kept a stash of emergency first-aid equipment on hand along with the colorful bandaids from Sasha. That was the only explanation on why Martin found himself reaching into his box of bandaids and pulling out a pink one before handing it to Jon.

For the first time since the car ride began, Jon was speechless. 

"What-"

"It's a bandaid!" Martin interrupted. "I mean um, you keep scratching your face and it looks like it hurts, and there's skin coming off so I thought, umm uh, bandaid?" His voice tapered off at the end. 

Martin went into panic mode. What was he thinking? Offering a bandaid to a monster person. Is Jon even human anymore? What if he gets offended?

Jon sat there quietly for a moment. The crunching sound of metal hummed in the air. Then, almost hesitantly, he reached out and took the bandaid from his hand. Gently pulling the backing off before putting it lightly over his scratches.

"Thank you," Jon said ever quietly "I- hmm, I don't remember the last time I've used one of these."

"I have tons, if you ever want any more, of course," Martin said quickly, words crashing into each other.

Suddenly the car came to an abrupt stop. Tires screeching and the sound of rusted metal groaned.

"Looks like we made it, this is your flat yes?"

It was in fact Martin's flat.

Howdidheknow-

"Well rides over, this certainly has been a change in pace." Jon let out another puff of smoke from his still burning cigarette. His mind seemed somewhere else.

"I uh-" Martin fumbled over his words. "Thank you for not killing me?" 

Jon chuckled before saying "Thanks for the bandaid. 

Martin fumbled out of his seatbelt and nearly fell out of the car. 

"Hey, Martin?"

"Uh- yes?"

Jon gave him one last look. "May the Change be kind to you." Before peeling off down the road.

While there was no evidence to suggest a second meeting, Martin Knew this wouldn't be the last time he'd see Jon. That was a guarantee.


End file.
